


no need for goodbyes

by fiddle_stix



Series: nct bits and bobs [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Car Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, M/M, as much as i could squeeze in for a scene like this, prepare tissues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:35:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiddle_stix/pseuds/fiddle_stix
Summary: He supposes that he should feel concerned, what with all thebloodandnot being able to movefiasco but instead all he could think about was the fact that he was going to miss his jam session with Jaehyun and Johnny.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: nct bits and bobs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607350
Comments: 7
Kudos: 92





	no need for goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for everything, please blame [@/jjgukks](https://jjgukks.tumblr.com/) because I promised that I would make her cry and this [horrible tumblr post](https://lonelymateo.tumblr.com/post/186769291028) from Satan himself.
> 
> _Person B knowing they’re undoubtedly about to die within the next few seconds, likely from the gaping wound they’re bleeding out from. Instead of calling for help, they phone Person A and carry on a casual conversation as if nothing is wrong, making sure to mention how much they love them before their time runs out._

Everything was beginning to slip away from him slowly, moving like molasses. The squeal of tires and the smell of burnt rubber and the tendrils of pain from the impact slowly grew more and more distant with every stuttering breath he took. Mark thought he should be concerned, lying flat on his back against the pavement, unable to get up. Instead all he could think about was the fact that he was going to miss his jam session with Jaehyun and Johnny.

Reaching down into his pocket clumsily, Mark wondering for a second if he should call someone — the police, an ambulance, anyone — for help. But the blood seeping through his shirt and the vague realisation that he couldn’t quite feel either of his legs anymore made him bypass that thought. No matter who it was, Mark doesn’t think they would arrive in time to save him. He tried not to think about how that should scare him.

Willing himself not to shake, Mark thumbed his way through his contacts, clicking on the number at the very top of his list before he even registered what he was doing. He barely had to wait a couple of rings before a loud excited voice filtered through the speakers, laughing as they said, “Mark Lee! What an honour! You never call me first.”

It was kind of fitting that he’d called Donghyuck — his first friend, the little devil who talked Mark into doing too many stupid things when they barely reach their mother’s knees. Mark tried not to think too much about the fact that Donghyuck might be the last person he ever talks to. _Why didn’t he just call his mum?_

Before he could even respond to Donghyuck’s playful jab, another voice cut in, Jeno’s incredulous voice audible over the line, as he shouted, “is that Mark hyung?”

There were calls from the other side of the line, voices overlapping one by one, Chenle’s signature screams somewhere in the mix, and _oh no,_ _this was going to be so much harder to say goodbye with all of them there_.

“Hey hyung!” Jisung sang, apparently having been able to manhandle the phone away from Donghyuck despite his loud protests. “I finally landed that jump today with Taeyong-hyung!”

“That’s great, Sungie,” Mark said, somehow finding his voice.

“It was so cool,” Jeno jumped in, rustling coming from the speaker. “Nana sent us a video of it, even Ten-hyung complimented him!”

“This little brat though,” Jaemin jumped in, sounding too fond to be really mad, “decides to make me cook for him when we got home, like I hadn’t also been practicing all day! Says he deserves an award for his hard work!” There was another squeal, Jisung’s indignant shouts in the background. It felt like home.

Distantly he registered the sound of a siren, too far away to help him now. Donghyuck seemed to hear it too because not a moment later he started singing ‘Firetruck’ loudly, his voice coming out honeyed and smooth even if he was joking around. Renjun was in the background too, scolding Chenle about something, but all through it Donghyuck crooned their first debut song together in his ear.

“Donghyuck?” he asked softly, his voice coming out a little hoarse.

“Yeah, hyung?”

He needed to say it, no matter how awkward it may seem. His time was running out.

“I love you guys.”

There was a pause, Donghyuck silent for once. “So cheesy, Mark Lee,” his voice was lilting and teasing, but far too soft to be really poking fun at Mark.

“I mean it. I don’t know if I tell you guys enough but I just— I just need you to know.”

For a second they both were quiet, the noise of their other friends fading away, as if Donghyuck had just realised his seriousness. “I know, hyung, even if you don’t always tell me.” It meant so much. “The other’s know too, I promise. We love you too, Mark Lee.” Through all the strange numbness and the blood pooling around his chest, Mark found it in himself to smile. “Are you— are you okay, hyung?”

“Yeah— yeah, of course,” Mark lied. This is what happened, he reminded himself. People got hurt. People died everyday. There was no point in making them all worry, or worse, hope for just a second before finding out there was no saving him. Instead he just looked up at the sky and wondered how much time he has left to live.

“Enough of this, tell me about what you guys are doing? I haven’t seen you guys in ages.”

Donghyuck laughed, and Mark could picture his grin. “You saw us this morning. Your memory failing you, old man?”

“I’m not old,” he said a little petulantly. _And I will never be,_ his brain supplied unhelpfully.

But Donghyuck wasn’t inside his head, or in front of him to weedle his thoughts out of him, so instead of waiting for Mark to say anything else he jumped in a story about Chenle accidentally locking Jeno in one of the storerooms and having to explain to Doyoung why one of the back windows were broken and Jeno’s right’s sleeve had been torn up. _Oh god, he was going to miss them_. 

Jeno chimed in, his voice holding annoyance or anger, his sunny disposition only allowing him to feel — at worse — exasperated. Chenle’s voice found its way through the phone, jumping in to try and defend himself, the phone call descending back into a familiar sort of chaos. As their voices enveloped him, he couldn’t help but feel grateful to all of them. They’re were happy, he reassured himself. They were going to be okay, no matter what happened. They were going to be okay without him. 

Mark wheezed out a choking sort of sound, lost within the rest of the noise. Blood was rising up through the back of his mouth, a coppery taste left in his mouth, and he was hit again with the thought that _this was it. Mark Lee was going to die._

He took one last look at the sky above him, all blue skies and white clouds. Such a pretty day to die. Mark’s eyes slipped closed to the jumble of his friend’s voices in his ears, enveloping him with the memories of the life he’d lived by their side.

**The Daily Herald**

Mark Lee, Found Dead After Hit-and-Run Collision between Pedestrian and Car, Aged 20

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story for NCT (and what a lovely idea I decided to go with first). These little one-shots, or lil ficlets, are (as the series suggests) little things I'm trying out to get used to writing with our wonderful Neo Culture Tech boys!
> 
> Sorry for doing this to Mark, I promise I love him and this was only really because of that darned prompt and trying to make one of my friends cry (whoops). I hope it wasn't too bad!
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/fiddle_styyx) | [tmblr](https://fiddle-styx.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  **Edit:** I know there have been a couple of people asking for a sequel for this and I wanted to apologise. I never intended for this little story to be anything other than an angst vent. I tried to formulate something to continue on—you're welcome to see my messy dot points on Haechan's perspective if you like—but something wasn't clicking so for now, I think it would be nicer to leave it just like this! I hope you're not too disappointed, if the inspiration ever does hit I'll definitely share!


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